


Till Death Do Us Part

by xpiester333x



Category: One Piece
Genre: Death!Zoro, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-14 14:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1269220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpiester333x/pseuds/xpiester333x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji is cursed, and Zoro - the incarnation of Death - breathes down his neck. But Zoro can't find it in him to harm Sanji and instead finds himself doing anything to keep the blond alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a prompt from Candy-of-Doom on tumblr and then a few others asked for more (all the prompts can be found on tumblr under the three sentence fic link on my blog) and I promised that one day it would be a fully, multichapter project, and here we are!
> 
> This is co-worked project between Candy-of-Doom and I. Doom provided the original prompt, and helped develop the ideas, and asked all the right questions. This is our work combined as a fic.

 It wasn’t often Zoro had to go to the human world to collect a soul in person. Usually it was only the darkest of souls, those truly evil and corrupted, that required his personal attention. Souls like that couldn’t be expected to find their way into hell by the usual methods.

Though, that didn’t seem to be the case in this particular situation. In fact, from what Zoro could tell, the guy was relatively good. He made about as many mistakes and committed just as many wrong doings as any other human. It was a pain to have to come here in person to collect such a simple soul, but the poor fellow had ended up on the wrong end of a nasty curse that demanded his immediate and untimely death. The poor guy had refused the advances of a woman that admired him very much, and once she realized she couldn’t have him, she’d decided no one else could either.

Zoro sighed. They should really do away with the old spell books entirely. They only created more work for him.

From the shadows he watched his victim work, whisking and chopping, stirring and frying until a dish that smelled so good it almost made Zoro’s mouth water had been created. Then, by himself, the blond haired victim sat down at his small dining room table and ate his meal for one.

Zoro wasn’t sure why he didn’t kill the man over his breakfast that morning.

* * *

He followed his victim down the sidewalk. Zoro withdrew a little deeper into his hood. It was bright here, sunny and warm already despite the early hour. The heat didn’t bother him, he’d spent time in places far hotter, but the sun never failed to irritate him. It was too bright, almost blinding, and he definitely preferred the night when he had to be in the human world.

He followed behind the blond for several minutes before the man entered a large building constructed of metal and glass. It was the last building on the street, and the front of it faced out towards the open waters of the ocean.

Zoro couldn’t explain what stopped him from killing the blond on the street either.

* * *

Zoro watched the blond work. His name was Sanji, and he was a dive instructor, which seemed to mean he put ridiculous looking equipment on people and forced them to go through exercises in a pool. It didn’t look particularly fun or amusing. Zoro wondered how many souls he’d claimed doing such a thing. None that he’d collected personally, not like the blond’s that he was here for, but lives would end and souls would be collected whether Zoro was there in person or not.

He watched the man work. He seemed friendly enough, a poor guy that had simply ended up on someone’s bad side. He was encouraging and supportive to his students, and all of them looked very pleased to be working with him.

Sanji was tall, close to Zoro’s height but maybe just a slight bit taller, and slim, with packed muscles from years of pushing his body through the water. His blonde hair was longer than necessary, almost reaching down to the tops of his shoulders when it was wet, with stupid chin-length fringe that he kept over one eye, even when it was dripping.

He had a charming smile; one that melted the hearts of the women he worked with, from the young kids to the old women, all of them seemed thrilled to be rewarded with that smile. Zoro couldn’t blame them, it was almost dazzling; sincere and warm and brimming with life.

He watched the blond through his work day. There was no rush to kill his victim, the man would die before the day was over. Zoro didn’t feel like traumatizing the people Sanji worked with by making a corpse of him so soon, it wouldn’t be very fair for them to have to suffer that way. He would wait until the blond was alone again, he had time for that.

About midway through the day a young woman reported for Sanji’s diving class. She came dressed in pieces of red fabric secured only by strings that left little to the imagination. She greeted Sanji warmly and looked eager to learn more about diving.

The blond’s reaction was enough to make Zoro reconsider not killing the man right then and there, if only to save him the embarrassment.

After a few hours in the water with his students, Sanji pulled himself out, using a nearby towel to capture most of the water from his body. He waved to one of his coworkers and stepped out the front doors, the ones that overlooked the beach and sea.

Zoro followed stealthily behind. Now was his opportunity. The blond was alone, so no one would question his very sudden death, and aside from the unfortunate person who would have to discover the body, no one would have to witness the death either.

Zoro slipped out the door behind the blond. Sanji stood a little off to the side, a cigarette in his lips and his hand on his lighter, but his eyes were staring out at the water. He lit the cigarette with practice skill and inhaled a lungful of acrid smoke, exhaling it in a cloud above his head.

“You’ve been hanging around me all day,” Sanji frowned, his eyes flickering over to Zoro. Zoro found himself locked into a blue gaze, the depths of the ocean threatening to crush him in that one look. His intense blue eyes trapped Zoro for a moment before turning back to the sea and freeing Death from his bonds.

“Aren’t you hot, dressed like that?” Sanji wondered.

But Zoro wasn’t listening. He was distracted, lost in his own thoughts and still feeling the remaining effects of those eyes. He’d never been so affected by a human before. It wasn’t the first time his victim had spotted him before their death, but it was the first time anyone had managed to stop Death with a single look alone.

“So?” Sanji prompted, finally pulling Zoro from the tangled web of his thoughts. “What’s your story?”

Those blue eyes were on him again, endless and deep and so very honest… Zoro couldn’t complete the simple task of reaching out and placing a hand on the blond’s shoulder. One touch of death was all it took… but Zoro couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Nothing,” he responded instead. “Just be careful today.”

He left the blond then, standing before the ocean in a haze of smoke.

It was the first time in all of his time as Death that Zoro had been unable to take the life of his victim.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sanji woke early the next morning. It was another hour before he had to be up, but his eyes snapped open of their own accord, and his body decided he needed to be awake. He sat up slowly in bed. The barely risen sun cast weak light around the room, chasing away the shadows of the night.

He was alone.

He wasn’t sure what else he had expected. He woke up alone most mornings, unless he had the fortune of taking a beautiful lady home with him the night before. He hadn’t bothered to extend that kind of invitation to anyone yesterday though, so he shouldn’t have been surprised to find himself alone now.

It wasn’t a lady he was expecting though, although he found that somewhat concerning. Instead, that man from yesterday lingered in his mind. A younger man, dressed all in black, with sickly, pale skin, and black, lightless eyes. Eyes that appeared deeper and more frightening than the depths of the ocean. He was a monotone combination of black and white, almost as if he’d walked straight out of the old movies, with the exception of his green hair.

What a strange man.

He had seemed to appear from out of nowhere, and yet if Sanji thought back, he could remember feeling his presence all day. It was like a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, the feeling of being watched; slightly unnerving, and yet Sanji had never been actually afraid.

He should have, maybe. The man’s presence was foreboding, dark and sinister in ways that would have frightened most people. And those lightless, dark eyes fixed on to Sanji’s were soulless and chilling… but Sanji couldn’t muster up fear. Instead he felt only curiosity, an interest in the stranger that he couldn’t shake, even now, after a good night’s rest.

Sanji sighed, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. If he was going to be up so early anyway, he might as well make the most of it with a run or something. He pulled himself out of bed, heading to his closet to get ready for the day.

* * *

 

Zoro had kept a steady eye on the blond all day, keeping himself hidden and invisible from his intended victim’s eyes. He’d watched the man take a run that morning; his quick pacing and impressive distance suggesting it was more than just swimming that created the blond’s physique. After his jog, Sanji had returned to his apartment, making himself a quick but delicious looking breakfast and giving himself plenty of time to get to work.

Zoro wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. He was going to kill the man, that was for sure. He’d spent the whole night hardening his resolve to kill the blond while he slept on peacefully in his bed. Now he was just waiting for the right moment.

He didn’t know what had happened yesterday. He’d never failed to kill his target before. He’d never even hesitated before, preferring to get the process over quickly. Hanging around on Earth had never felt quite right to him. It wasn’t where he belonged, so lingering there was never one of his goals.

He’d steeled himself to kill the man today, this time for sure, but he was now sitting back once again and watching the blond work. He could have easily killed the man during his jog, but it had seemed like a bad time to do so. Once Sanji was back in his apartment, an opportunity arose for Zoro once more, and he could have easily killed Sanji over his breakfast. Zoro hadn’t seen anyone come over last night though, and the blond hadn’t communicated with anyone expect for his clients at work. If Zoro killed Sanji in his home, how long would it be before the body was found? What kind of shape would it be in when it was? No, Zoro definitely couldn’t kill the blond at home.

At the man’s work would certainly be the best place, but once again Zoro remained off to the side, watching instead. This time he kept himself further back and better hidden. He didn’t want the blond to know he was still lingering around. The more the man relaxed, the easier catching him off guard became. The next time Sanji slipped out for a cigarette, he would die.

His opportunity came at the same time as the day before. It seemed it was a routine for the blond to take his cigarette after his morning classes had finished. Zoro watched him slide through the same doors as before. It seemed he liked to watch the ocean while he smoked. Perhaps he enjoyed the view. It would be a nice final glimpse at the world at the very least.

Zoro watched through the glass of the door, using the reflection of the sun off of its surface to keep him from being seen. He needed to wait for the perfect moment this time. He didn’t want to make eye contact this time. Those deep blue eyes were dangerous. There was something about them, Zoro almost had to wonder if they were some kind of deep magic. Being able to stop Death was no easy feat.

No, his safest option was to avoid those eyes, to catch the man when he wasn’t looking. The door was the only thing separating them, but solid objects on Earth meant little to Zoro. He could touch them, if he wished, or reach through them at will. Nothing manmade could stand between Death and his victim.

He slid through the closed door, closing in on his prey. He was nearly there, just one touch - and his strange experience would be over….

“You’re back again.”

The voice caught Zoro off guard. The blond hadn’t been looking at him, in fact his eyes had never looked away from the horizon. There was no way the blond could have been able to tell Zoro was there at all.

Despite the impossibility, those blue eyes found him easily.

“This is kind of creepy, you know?” Sanji frowned at him, pausing to inhale a lungful of smoke. “You’ve been following me around again, most people would have you arrested.”

Zoro didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to say. The blond was more perceptive than he was used to. It wasn’t unusual for his victims to know him right before they died, but he’d never had them recognize him like this.

“I think an explanation is in order is all,” Sanji concluded, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette and turning to face Zoro properly, those eyes locking with his, commanding an answer and freezing Zoro in his spot once again.

The man wanted an explanation? Zoro had never had to explain the situation to one of his victims before, but then none of them had ever been quite like this either. In all of his time as Death, he’d never had to coax anyone to death, or talk them into their grave. His job was simple, or it had been every day until this moment.

“You’re cursed,” the words left him unbidden, surprising him. It was really as if the blond had pulled the words from him through some unseen power. That was impossible, of course, no human could ever command Death.

He fought for control of his own mouth. If he was going to explain this, he wanted it to be on his own terms and under his own power, not under the mercy of those eyes. Sanji only watched him in silence, the one, visible eyebrow raised skeptically as he waited for further explanation.

“To death,” Zoro continued, finally finding his own words again. “Someone cursed you to death. I’ve come here to see their curse through and collect your soul.”

“Because you are…” Sanji trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

“Death,” Zoro replied without hesitation. The blond was going to die soon anyway, it wouldn’t hurt for him to know Zoro as he was. Perhaps it would even ease his transition into the next world.

Sanji only stared at him, blinking once or twice but not reacting any further than that.

“It will only take a touch,” Zoro explained, holding up his hand. “One touch of Death, it’s painless.”

Sanji’s mouth twisted slightly, a frown forming on his lips. “I don’t want to die.”

Zoro had heard this argument before. If his victims had the misfortune of knowing him before they died, they usually spewed these words just before they received his touch. As long as he’d been doing this, he’d heard this line. Of course he had. The afterlife was unknown to humans, and from what he’d learned about them, humans feared the unknown above all else.

This was, however, the first time that argument had ever worked on him.

His resolve to kill the man at any cost crumbled. He could see the truth written plainly in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t even that the blond was begging, just the opposite. He hadn’t even mentioned the injustice of being sentenced to death because another cursed him to it. Sanji wasn’t begging for his life, he was stating a fact. A man who found joy in living did not want to die. He wanted to live.

The blond continued to watch him with those powerful, blue eyes, waiting for his judgment. The slight frown remained on his face, but he made no other indication of his emotions. He had stated his case, and now he was waiting for Zoro to do his bidding.

Zoro wanted to. It was his duty, his job. He was made to kill. His very existence was made up of, and surrounded by, death. He was the embodiment of the end, life stood no chance against his touch. His role was vital to the balance of the cosmos. He was Death.

He couldn’t do it.

He vanished from the blond’s sight. He was nowhere the man could detect him now. He was on another plane of existence, a place only he and incarnations like him could slip away to. No human could follow him here.

He took a deep, shaky breath, steadying his nerves once again. The man somehow upset a balance in him; shaking his usual heartless resolve and weakening his strongest defenses. He had never felt so unwilling to take a life before. Decades and decades of taking the lives of mortals and collecting their souls for the afterlife had made him immune to any regrets he might have once had about ending someone’s life. He had outgrown that phase, become strong enough to follow through with his duties, and until this moment he had never had a problem doing so.

“Is something wrong, Zoro?” A voice interrupted him.

It wasn’t just any voice. It was _the_ voice. The voice of the man that made him in to the incarnation of Death, the man that commanded and ruled over him, as well as all the other immortal and mortal beings in the universe. Humans called him God, but to Zoro he was simply a superior, someone he worked for in return for a favor done for him so long ago.

On some occasions, Zoro even saw him as a friend. He was easy to get along with, though Zoro could never quite shake the reminder that he worked under him as a subordinate.

“The cursed man,” Zoro started.

“Oh? Sanji? What about him?” God asked curiously.

“Does he have to die?”

At this, God paused in what he had been doing and fixed Zoro with a serious look. He seemed to be trying to read something in Zoro, and it unnerved Zoro to realize it was probably his thoughts. God was omnipotent, after all, keeping a secret from him was impossible.

“I see,” God spoke. He tapped his chin hard for a moment, as if he were solving a very difficult puzzle. “Sanji is a good guy, isn’t he?”

“He has his faults,” Zoro grumbled.

“Sure, but all humans do. Sanji isn’t a bad soul though, he’d live another fifty years, easily, if he hadn’t gone and gotten himself cursed.”

Zoro’s frown deepened. Fifty years was a long time for a human, it made the difference between a young child and an old man.

“Those curses should be burned from the world,” Zoro growled. “They are dangerous in the hands of humans.”

“It’s hard to find them all,” God defended. “We’ve tried, but they keep popping back up, I have no idea where the humans manage to hide them every time.”

Death didn’t look any more or less impressed with the answer. “Well, isn’t there something we can do?”

As this, all of God’s humor dropped, and he took on a much more serious tone. “He’s meant to die now, Zoro. It’s sad he doesn’t get to finished his life as he might have, but there is nothing that can be done now.”

When Zoro didn’t respond, he tilted his head and asked, “Do you remember what happens if you don’t fulfill your duty?”

Zoro’s gritted teeth unclenched, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

God nodded once, sitting back in his seat and watching Zoro think.

If Zoro failed to collect a soul, that soul could become lost. A lost soul could have a dangerous impact. It was an imbalance in the system, and if the soul was important enough, it could be a catastrophic mistake.

“He has to die,” God said firmly.

He was powerless to go against this man’s word. Zoro lived only to serve him. Without him, Zoro wouldn’t even exist right now, so to this man Zoro owed everything. He wouldn’t disobey his command.

“Of course,” was all Zoro said before returning to Earth to carry out his duty.

* * *

 

Zoro returned just outside of Sanji’s apartment. It was night now, but the light from the window of the blond’s place was still on, so it couldn’t have been too late. Zoro didn’t know if that was good or bad. A sleeping Sanji wouldn’t make a sound of protest. That would certainly be easier.

Zoro materialized himself into the living room of the small apartment. A locked door or window meant nothing against Death. However, it didn’t look like Sanji was trying to hide from him. On the contrary, the blond was seated on the floor in front of his coffee table, a pile of papers scattered across the stained wood surface before him.

He sighed, tossing his pen down and stretching his arms above his head. Beneath the table his toes pointed in a stretch as well. He was about midway through his stretch when he noticed Zoro and jumped as if he’d seen a ghost. Although in this case, it was much worse.

Sanji sucked in a deep breath, pulling the reading glasses from his face and tossing them onto the table beside his discarded pen.

“I was hoping I could finish my last will before you got back,” he said to Zoro. Despite the heavy topic, his tone was light and conversational. “Not that I have a lot to give away, but I want to make sure what I do have gets to the right people.”

Zoro didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what to say. More than that, he feared speaking would ruin his determination. He could still hear the words of the man who commanded him ringing around in his head. Sanji had to die today; there was no other option. It was his fate, and the worlds depended on his life coming to an end. Zoro would make sure it happened.

“Am I going to die now?” The blond asked curiously, looking up at Zoro expectantly. Not afraid. There was no fear in the endless blue oceans of those eyes. There was only expectance as he waited for Zoro to confirm his end.

“No,” Zoro spoke, surprising even himself for a moment. He wasn’t sure where the word had come from. He certainly hadn’t meant to say it. The word had been screaming through him silently, tearing at his very being in search of an exist, but Zoro was stronger than that, he wouldn’t let it free so easily. Or so he had thought.

“No,” he said again, his voice firm despite his internal disbelief. “You’re not going to die, I’m going to make sure of it,” he promised.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sanji glanced at Zoro again, his expression laden with questions and clouded with confusion. He looked puzzled. Their gazes met for a moment, blue eyes locking onto to Zoro’s solid black ones, and Sanji looked away again, appearing unnerved.

This had been going on for a long stretch of time; since Zoro had made his bold refusal to kill Sanji, the blond man had been shooting him these looks. It was obvious he had questions and it was inevitable that he would ask them. Zoro just had to wait it out.

“Would it kill you to blink or something?” Sanji finally asked.

It was not the question Zoro had been expecting. Actually, it left him confused instead.

“What?” He asked, his brow knitting into a confused scowl. He didn’t like feeling uncertain, it was part of why he tried to avoid lingering too long on earth. Things were too different and confusing every time he came up here. He hated it.

“You know, blink,” Sanji’s eyes fell closed slowly and opened again in demonstration. “The soulless stare is making me kind of uncomfortable.”

Zoro’s frown deepened. Experimentally he mimicked the blond’s movements. It was a familiar motion but unnecessary for him now. It felt forced, strange. He didn’t need to blink. He was no longer human, and human functions were long forgotten memories.

He followed the motion again, a quick closing and opening of his eyelids. The tense line of the blond’s shoulders relaxed slightly when he did.

“So…” Sanji paused. One hand worked a palm across his face while the other sought out the package that was lying on the table next to him. He managed to find it, and with both hands pulled a cigarette from within. Placing it between his lips, he burned the tip and inhaled. Hazy white smoke surged from the blond’s lips before he continued. “Death…”

“My name is Zoro,” Zoro told him. It was the first time he’d ever told a human his name.

“Death has a name,” Sanji said with a dry chuckle. He spoke quietly, and Zoro wasn’t sure he was supposed to have heard him or not. He sat silently, waiting for the blond to address him.

“Zoro,” Sanji tested the name. “Interesting.”

Zoro didn’t respond. The blond lapsed back into silence, smoking and watching Zoro. Zoro blinked again, remembering the blond’s earlier remark.

Sanji finished smoking, stubbed out the remainder of the cigarette before lighting another and repeating the process again.

“So, you’re not going the kill me?” The blond finally asked, fixing Zoro with his questioning gaze again. The curiosity made Sanji’s blue eyes glimmer slightly.

“No,” Zoro confirmed.

The blue eyes didn’t relax any; in fact, their color became something lighter and colder. Ice instead of ocean, and the look he was giving Zoro now could be called guarded.

“Why not?” Sanji asked.

It sounded almost like an invitation. Zoro wondered for a moment if maybe it was, but the look in the blond’s eyes was back to the glimmering curiosity. He genuinely wanted an answer.

Zoro was unsure of how to answer though. Even he wasn’t sure why he was refusing his orders, refusing the workings of fate and sparing the blond’s life. It was an unexplainable feeling. Something he couldn’t shake. The only thing he knew for sure was that some part of him, some part deeply rooted, refused to bring about the man’s death.

“I’ve never, in all my time as Death, failed to kill my victim,” Zoro explained to him. “But I can’t bring myself to kill you.”

Sanji considered this for a moment, the hazy smoke obscuring the look in his eyes.

“So what’s it like, being Death?”

Zoro was learning quickly that Sanji was entirely different from any human he’d ever encountered before. Not that he held many conversations with humans in the past, but even if he had, he knew he’d find Sanji different. Sanji wasn’t afraid of Death, he was curious. He wasn’t afraid to die either, he just valued his own life. He was very different from what Zoro was used to, and what he’d come to expect from humans.

“Blink, Zoro,” he reminded, softly exhaling another puff of smoke.

Zoro complied, blinking again. It was a difficult habit to pick up. He blinked twice before answering Sanji’s question.

“Being Death is…” he trailed off, unsure for a moment how to answer. To say his job was “fun” would be a drastic overstatement. Even if he was the bringer of death, it wasn’t always an enjoyable experience, particularly when his victims were young. However, he couldn’t say he hated it either. “A job,” he finally concluded.

Sanji snorted. “I hear you.”

There was another moment of silence while Sanji seemed to muse over something. Zoro wasn’t inclined to keep the conversation going. He wasn’t used to holding conversation at all, actually. He typically lived a very quiet existence, monitoring the flow of the dead or collecting their spirits himself. He didn’t have time for conversation. It didn’t bother him, he’d always preferred to be alone. Having one with Sanji was rare, strange, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“So, if you’re here,” Sanji pointed down to the floor. “Then what’s going on out there?” He moved his hand and pointed to his window.

“What do you mean?” Zoro frowned again.

“I mean, don’t you have other people to kill? I can’t have been your only appointment this week,” Sanji chuckled as if he found the situation humorous.

“I don’t have any other appointments,” Zoro shrugged.

Sanji gaped, looking rather surprised. “No one? In the whole world? No one is dying right this very minute and ready to be visited by the angel of death?”

“I’m not an angel,” Zoro snorted. “And of course people are dying. Do you know how many people die every minute? More than a hundred. In the time we’ve sat here, thousands have died.”

Sanji paled and looked at Zoro with wide, alarmed eyes. “Then why are you still sitting here?! Don’t you need to go care for them?”

“Nah,” Zoro dismissed. “It’s rare for me to have to handle a death personally. I usually leave them to my projections.”

“Your what?” Sanji frowned. When he frowned, his unusually curled eyebrow arched, making him look especially harsh.

“Projections,” Zoro repeated.

As if to demonstrate, a piece of him broke away. It tore from his body like paper, the wisps of his essence spiraling about, settling into two separate forms. The second was smaller than him, and all black. Not quite solid in appearance, and its shape was something only vaguely resembling a human. It took a moment to collect itself, the tendrils of black, smoke-like essence curling around it until it was complete. When it was, it immediately flew off, faster than any man could run, and disappeared through a spot in Sanji’s wall.

If the blond had been pale before, he was twice as bad now. “What was…”

“One of my projections.” Zoro informed him. “They are capable of handling the souls of the dead and guiding them to their afterlife. They can mostly tell if a soul is bound for heaven or hell, but if they are in question, they’ll take it to my home where I can pass judgment on it later.”

“You pass judgment?” Sanji looked to be in shock, still pale from Zoro’s demonstration, but his eyes sparkled with interest. “What about God?”

“What about him?” Zoro asked. “He’s got a lot to do without having to manage the dead as well, he leaves that up to me.”

Sanji frowned. “So, you get to… what exactly do you do with them?”

“Send them to the afterlife,” Zoro informed him. “Or hell, depending on their behavior during life.”

“How can you tell? What if you send a good person to hell?” Sanji’s questions came quicker now. Zoro was slightly impressed with the man’s ability to adapt quickly to new information. Since yesterday, Zoro had been throwing new and unexpected news at the blond, but Sanji took each shot with only minimal alarm.

“Ah, this,” Zoro paused, pulling back his hood and revealing his full head of green hair. He was well aware of exactly how badly it stood out in contrast with his skin. He could feel Sanji’s eyes on it but ignored the man’s gaze.

Reaching down the back of his neck, he followed the column of his spine before digging his hand into his body. It wasn’t as disgusting as it sounded. When he’d accepted the role of Death, Zoro had cast away his flesh and bone body. He was more of an essence now, appearing solid, but not entirely. With enough focus (and the ability to touch him without dying) even a human like Sanji could reach through Zoro’s body.

Zoro’s fingers wrapped around the cloth covered hilt, and from himself he pulled a katana, its blade black with a crimson shine and his hilt wrapped in black. He held it aloft for a moment before lowering it and presenting it for Sanji to see more clearly.

Sanji stared, transfixed by the appearance of the black blade. His eyes followed the length of it, from hilt to tip, and his hand reached out.

Zoro hissed and withdrew the sword from his reach. The action seemed to pull Sanji to his senses, and he retracted his outstretched hand.

“Sorry,” he muttered, stubbing out his cigarette.

“This blade is part of me,” Zoro explained. “If you touch it, it would be the same thing as touching me, it would kill you instantly.”

“I can’t touch you at all?” Sanji looked surprised.

“Of course not, Death’s touch would kill you instantly,” Zoro scoffed at the blond’s naivety. Everyone should know that.

“I thought that was something you could turn on and off,” Sanji mused. “But you mean, anytime, even if I bump into you on accident, it would kill me?”

“I really hope you don’t do that,” Zoro frowned. “Otherwise there’s no point in letting you live now, is there?”

Sanji shifted slightly, looking like he was trying to create more distance between himself and Death. Zoro smirked. Good, that was what he needed to see. Sanji was too at ease for someone having a conversation with the incarnation of Death. A little fear would be good for him.

Still, after moving slightly, Sanji looked no less interested in the sword. He allowed his eyes to admire what his hands could not.

“What does that have to do with judging souls?” He asked.

His eyes never left the blade. Zoro couldn’t entirely blame him for his fascination; it was a good sword, strong and powerful; Death’s blade was impressive and beautiful.

“I cut them,” Zoro explained, jerking his sword in a quick slicing motion. Sanji jumped slightly, startled by the blade’s sudden movement, but he looked more fascinated than before.

“You cut them…” Sanji frowned. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Have you ever seen a soul?” Zoro scoffed.

Sanji fixed him with a deadpan look. Zoro felt a little stupid under that gaze. Of course Sanji had never seen a soul, he was only human. If he _had_ seen a soul, Zoro would have been surprised and maybe a little frightened. It was rare for a human to ever come into contact with the souls of the dead, and when they did… well, there were usually some unsafe practices occurring. It was another reason there were supposed to be no more of those old spell books lying around.

The first reason was because of people like Sanji. Innocent, valuable lives being ended before their time by the powers of old magic.

“It doesn’t hurt them,” Zoro assured him.

“What does cutting them do?” Sanji asked.

“When a soul’s essence passes across Shuusui’s blade,” Zoro raised his sword slightly to show he was still talking about his own blade. “It wakes his siblings up.”

“His… siblings?” For the first time since they’d met, Sanji was looking at him skeptically. Apparently, Death was a believable profession, but the face changing sword was impossible for the blond to accept.

“Look,” Zoro angled the sword, catching the light of the lamp and reflecting it towards the blond’s eyes.

Sanji hissed and brought a hand up to protect himself from the glare. The sudden change in brightness took a moment to adjust to, but Zoro held the sword steady and waited while the blond blinked his eyes to adjust and looked closer at the sword.

Zoro knew what he would find there. Rather than the black and crimson blade, he would see a straight white blade. He wouldn’t be able to see it like this, but the straight blade led up to a hilt bound in white cloth with golden inlays. It was simple, but beautiful.

“Wado Ichimonji,” Zoro said, twisting the blade back from the light. Immediately the image of Wado lying dormant within the black blade was gone from the blond’s sight. “She reveals the spirits destined for the afterlife.”

He turned the blade further. The light from the lamp was reflecting into his eyes now, but that meant the blond was seeing its darkest side. The blade would be simple and silver, but the wrath and blood lust would be apparent in it even if it wasn’t visible. The fold of the metal created a unique shape, almost resembling flames that flickered in the pale light.

“Sandai Kitetsu,” Zoro named. “He reveals those destined for hell.”

He flipped the blade again, hiding the image once more. He looked thoughtfully down at the now black sword in his hands. “Well, Kitetsu might actually hurt them. He seems a little too pleased about meeting souls like that.”

Sanji shuddered slightly. Zoro didn’t blame him, even after all these years Kitetsu only barely put up with Zoro. He was strong willed and dangerous, and even Zoro handled him with a fair amount of appreciation and respect for that danger.

“So, your sword tells you where the souls go, and then?” Sanji’s attention had apparently been shaken from the sword, long enough to ask the one question Zoro couldn’t quite answer.

“I can’t tell you anymore,” Zoro replied honestly.

“What?” Sanji looked annoyed, surprised, and maybe a tad desperate. It was clear his incomplete knowledge of life after death would bother him. “Why not?”

“Because I never really died,” Zoro confessed. “So what happens to the souls of men once they’re sorted is beyond me. I don’t know any more than you do.”

The blond didn’t look entirely satisfied with this answer. It was clear he wanted to know more even if he had to push Zoro to get it. Zoro wasn’t lying to him though, and it seemed some part of Sanji realized that. Instead, the blond sat and contemplated everything Zoro had told him so far while he smoked.

Zoro left him to his thoughts, content to sit in silence for a while. He hadn’t talked so much in one sitting in a long time, so long he couldn’t even remember the last time he had such a conversation. It wasn’t like he didn’t talk to anyone else, but immortals were bad at conversation, and so any talking was usually straight and to the point.

Zoro used the silence to observe the blond. Sanji was so lost in his own thoughts he wasn’t aware that Zoro was watching him at the moment, and it was a perfect opportunity to learn more about the blond. Zoro learned best about his opponents through careful observation, and while Sanji wasn’t exactly an enemy, he was a mystery and a threat to Zoro’s existence.

Sanji’s eyes were darker now, deep in an ocean of thought. They were tired looking, drooped as if the blond could hardly stay awake. Their shape was deceiving; behind the tired lids the blue eyes were almost always alert and observant.

The cigarette hung from the blond’s lips, seemingly forgotten except for the few times Sanji’s hand rose to pull it away and flick the collected ash off the end. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a pensive frown. He had a weak line of hair above his upper lip that met the small beard below it. His facial hair was several shades darker than the color of his hair, and Zoro found himself a little fixated on why the two colors would be so different. Both colors suited his pale skin, however, skin that appeared hardly touched by the sun despite his overly bright environment. Of course, it was still darker than Zoro’s, it would be impressive to be as pale as Death, but it still didn’t quite match the world the blond lived in.

“I’m going to bed,” Sanji finally said, stubbing out the butt of his previous cigarette and standing up.

Zoro watched him go, not leaving his seat on the couch. “I’ll wait here,” he said to Sanji’s retreating form.

Sanji froze and spun back around to look at Zoro. “You’ll what?” He frowned.

“Wait here,” Zoro repeated. “For you to wake up.”

Sanji’s frown deepened. “Why don’t you go home?”

“I can’t,” Zoro growled. “Letting you live is a huge law breaker. If I go home, they’ll find me and nag me, possibly demote me. It’s harder to find me on Earth.”

“God can’t find you?” Sanji asked in disbelief. “The all-knowing and omnipotent God can’t find one of his employees on this planet? Not much of a guy.”

Zoro was on his feet before he even put thought into the action. “Watch your mouth, human. You don’t know anything.”

Sanji flinched slightly at the tone in his voice. Zoro would have felt guilty; after all, it couldn’t have been easy to have Death snap at you, but any guilt he should have felt was lost in his anger. Zoro might have been breaking the law now, but he was still loyal.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji said, and he looked like it. “I just meant… won’t it be hard to stay hidden for long? Even here?”

Zoro relaxed slightly. “Maybe, but God is kind of… easily distracted. It’s likely that the others will come looking for me first. I have time.”

Sanji looked at him doubtfully, obviously not sure Zoro was telling the truth or not. Zoro wouldn’t make this up, it wasn’t exactly ideal for him to spend so much time on Earth either. He wasn’t particularly attached to his home, it was just a place to rest, but Earth in general always made him feel exhausted. Things changed over time, and Zoro had long since given up keeping up with all the advancements. He usually kept his business short and never lingered long here.

So much for that.

“Whatever,” Sanji finally sighed. “Just stay out of my stuff and don’t eat all of my food.”

Sanji’s bedroom door snapped shut before Zoro got the chance to explain that he didn’t _need_ to eat. Zoro sighed, shifting slightly on the couch. Time on Earth always seemed to pass by quickly for him ever since he’d accepted his role as Death. That night, however, would go down in his memory as one of the longest in existence.

* * *

 

Sanji rose early the next morning. Despite having stayed up so late the night before, he didn’t look tired in the slightest, and he woke up with enough energy to cook a hearty breakfast for himself.

Zoro sat at the small dining table, watching as Sanji worked. This was the first impression he’d gotten of the blond when he’d come to kill him, and watching the man work now, Zoro thought it was no wonder he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Sanji was something else in the kitchen. His every move was graceful perfection, and not a single moment was wasted. Yet, despite such sure and precise movements, he looked completely at ease. His face was relaxed, free of the frown he’d been wearing since last night, and he was humming quietly. It was tune so soft Zoro could barely make it out, but it seemed upbeat and happy.

Sanji’s hips swayed slightly to the rhythm of his hummed tune. Zoro watched them, admiring the fluid motions of the blond’s body as he swayed to an inaudible beat. It was clear that this was where the blond belonged. It was no wonder he got up early regardless of how much sleep he’d gotten; Sanji really came to life while cooking.

It wasn’t long before Sanji was sliding the food onto plates and bringing them to the small dining room table where Zoro sat. To his surprise, the blond set one of the plates down in front of him.

“What’s this?” Zoro asked.

“An omelet,” Sanji replied as if that explained everything, before sitting down with his own plate and digging in.

Zoro stared at the food in front of him. It was something yellow that seemed to wiggle slightly at his touch. It wasn’t any dish he recognized, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Eat your food and stop playing with it,” Sanji snapped.

Zoro glared at him before looking down at his “omelet” again. When was the last time he’d eaten food? Before he’d accepted this position, when he was still human, maybe. There had been a few banquets held by God, but Zoro couldn’t recall eating food at any of them. There was no need to eat, so doing so would just be a wasted effort.

Now, however, he was being glared down by an irritable human, and somehow that put more pressure on him to eat than he could ever remember before. Not eating seemed like it might come bearing consequences now.

Tentatively, he took a bite. Now, it could have been because this was his first bite of food in several hundred years, but it was one of the best things he’d ever tasted. The time since his last meal may have been a factor, but he was willing to bet it had more to do with the blond’s abilities. Not only did Sanji look at ease in the kitchen, he was obviously talented there as well.

Before he realized it, his plate was empty, and Sanji was staring at him, eyebrows raised and amusement dancing in his eyes. The blond had hardly touched his plate in the time it had taken Zoro to finish his own.

“Enjoyed it?” He asked, looking at Zoro’s empty plate and back to Zoro.

It was delicious, but from the look the blond was giving him, Zoro felt a little embarrassed. He couldn’t stand the idea of some stupid human mocking Death.

“It was okay, I’ve had better,” Zoro muttered.

“Here,” Sanji chuckled, sliding the remainder of his food across the table to Zoro. “Hurry up and eat so we can go.”

Zoro wasted no time in digging in, immediately feeling stupid again when he caught Sanji smiling at him. He had the excuse of not having eaten in a very long time, any food would have been enjoyable to him now. It just so happened the blond’s food was _really_ enjoyable.

“Wait, where are we going?” He asked through a mouthful of egg.

Sanji gave him a disdainful look, clearly not pleased with Death’s poor table manners.

“Out,” he replied, running the water over his dishes and setting to clean them. “I have things I need to get before work, so we’ll make it a quick trip.”

Zoro frowned into his food. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go out under the sun and follow the blond around while he did whatever it was he wanted to do. It seemed like a pointless trip, but when Sanji disappeared into his bedroom and reappeared in a new set of clothes, Zoro realized it would be inevitable.

* * *

 

The sun was already shining brightly above their heads when Sanji led Zoro outside. It was early in the morning, Zoro thought, but the sun had obviously no concern for the hour. Instead it seemed determined to make Zoro miserable with its unwavering brightness. He miserably tried to hide himself deeper into his hood.

“Aren’t you hot like that?” Sanji asked, pausing to light up a cigarette before leading them down the road.

“I’ve spent time in hotter places,” Zoro frowned. “They aren’t nearly as bright though.”

Sanji’s stupidly curled eyebrows furrowed. “Hotter places… like hell?”

Zoro looked at him flatly. “Where else would I have been talking about?”

“It’s hotter down south,” Sanji snapped defensively. “I just meant… I thought you said you’d never died so you didn’t know what was beyond.”

“I’ve stood in Hell’s front hall. I guess, you could say,” Zoro explained. “I have to deal with the guardian there pretty often. I have no interest in going further in, however. The entrance is bad enough,” he shuddered, remembering the intense heat that burned and melted everything that wasn’t immortal. He remembered the screams that echoed from beyond his sight. No matter how often he’d had to go there over the time, he never got any more used to it.

“Zoro?” Sanji called, shaking him from his thoughts.

“Sorry,” Zoro muttered. “I just don’t like the sun.”

 Sanji shrugged and let the subject drop, leading them silently into the shopping area of the town.

The problem with this shopping area was that it was busy. Normal people couldn’t see Zoro, and so they didn’t bother trying to avoid walking right into him. His cloak protected him from most contact, but his hands were bare, and if someone accidentally came into contact with his flesh, they’d die on the spot. He wasn’t in the habit of killing people out of turn, and especially not accidentally.

He tried to stick closer to Sanji, hoping the blond’s body would keep enough people at a safe distance for Zoro to get by. Doing so put him dangerously close to Sanji, however; if Zoro wanted to kill the man, he would have done so. He compromised by staying a few steps behind the blond. Far enough to avoid accidentally touching him, but close enough that most people kept their distance from Zoro as well.

People drifting too close to him was not the only problem Zoro was faced with on this shopping trip. He could only be seen by his victims and those marked for death, but he wasn’t impossible to perceive. Most people didn’t notice him there, too busy with their lives to pay attention to Death. There were living things, however, with simpler minds. They were more perceptive of their surroundings, and even if they could not clearly see him, they knew him.

Children were particularly sensitive to his presence. Babies screamed inside of their strollers when Zoro passed by, while their mothers tried their hardest to soothe them. One little girl started at Zoro, or at least where Zoro was standing, for almost a full minute. Sanji found this massively entertaining until the little girl let out a shriek of fear and several faces turned to glare at the blond accusingly.

Animals too were alert to Zoro’s presence. Down what seemed to be the main street of the district, a pet shop owner stood outside the front of his shop, scratching his head while the animals within howled and shrieked and fought against their cages, desperate for freedom. When Zoro passed by, they fell silent, cowering in fear of the figure of Death as he passed by. The pet shop owner looked almost relieved, but once Zoro was a few steps past the old shop, the cacophony of noises began again.

Zoro was relieved when the blond announced their arrival to their destination. They stood out front of a crumbling old shop, one far more weather worn and rustic looking than the tourist attractions surrounding it.

Inside, the shop was lined with various odds and ends, only some of which Zoro recognized. Lengths of rope spanned a large length of shelf, and the ridiculous equipment Sanji had to deal with at work lined the back wall. There was a wide variety of fire arms behind a counter and ammunition for them inside the counter itself.

Other things, though, were not so obvious, and Zoro found himself distracted with a pair of, what seemed to be, large eye glasses that magnified everything significantly. Currently he was staring into slightly blurred blue iris’ that were fixing him with an unamused look.

“Put the binoculars down and pay attention,” Sanji said through gritted teeth.

Zoro pulled the binoculars away from his face and blinked. Where Sanji had been standing alone just a moment before, there were now two people staring at him with looks of disapproval. Or rather, the blond was staring at him with a look of disapproval. The newcomer stood a few steps behind Sanji, staring at the place Zoro stood, the expression on his face a mixture of horror and fascination.

“Did those binoculars just…” The stranger trailed off.

Sanji cast Zoro one last irritated look before spinning around to face the man. “What?” He asked innocently. “I told you I wasn’t looking for binoculars, I’m looking for gloves.”

The shop worker seemed to snap to his senses, though he continued to shoot looks at the binoculars that Zoro had just set down, as if he were expecting them to fly again. Zoro realized the man had caught him playing with them, but since he couldn’t see Zoro, it appeared as if the binoculars had moved on their own.

Zoro hung back out of the way while Sanji talked to the man about what he was looking for. It was probably safer for him to lie low for now; if he got caught playing with something again, it might not be so easily ignored. Instead Zoro waited one aisle over, sifting through a wide variety of things that claimed to be food. They were dry and strange looking though, a far cry from the food the blond had made for him that morning.

He was just considering opening one up and tasting it to see what food so dry and unappetizing looking could taste like when Sanji appeared again at his side and beckoned him to follow with a look. He didn’t speak to Zoro now, not with the shop worker standing so close still, waiting for Sanji, so Zoro never got to ask what exactly the blond had made him come here for. He could only follow behind and wait to find out.

Once they were outside of the shop and back onto the sunny street, Sanji reached into his bag and tossed something Zoro’s way.

“I got them in black, I assume that’s the color you wanted,” Sanji pointed to the object he’d tossed at Zoro.

They were a pair of gloves, Zoro realized, something made of a light weight material, but thick enough to protect others against Death’s touch. He eagerly slipped them on, flexing his fingers within the material. They fit surprisingly well, like a second skin on his hands. They would do well for occasions like this, when he couldn’t control the tide of people or avoid them without raising alarm.

“If you’re happy with those, then we should go back,” Sanji said, leading the way back towards his home.

Zoro followed along, but further behind now. Between his cloak and his new gloves he didn’t have to fear running into people nearly as much.

* * *

 

Sanji was in the middle of getting dressed when Zoro made his announcement.

“I should go back,” he said, speaking from the doorway of Sanji’s bedroom.

Sanji froze. His shirt was halfway over his head and his pants were undone, and he was fixing Zoro with a look of mild irritation from beneath the tangled shirt he was removing.

“Do you mind?” He asked. “I’m trying to change here. I had no idea Death would be such a voyeur.”

Zoro frowned. It wasn’t like he’d never seen a half-naked person before. He’d killed plenty of men and women in various states of undress, so nudity was of little concern to him. It seemed to bother the blond, however, if the tinge of pink on the man’s face was anything to go by.

“I’ve seen people without clothes before,” Zoro assured him, trying to put the blond more at ease.

Sanji snorted. “Yeah, and how did they compare?” He asked with a tone Zoro didn’t quite recognize. He sounded a little angry or maybe annoyed, but the tone offset his question, and Zoro wasn’t sure which he should pay more attention too.

He decided that a question asked should probably be answered. It wouldn’t have been the most unusual thing Sanji had asked him anyway.

“Not usually as fit,” he replied. “You dedicate more time to your body then most others do.”

Sanji dropped the shirt he’d been holding, spinning around and looking at Zoro disbelievingly.

“That was not an invite for you to check me out!” Sanji shouted at him.

“I wasn’t checking anything out,” Zoro defended irritably. “I was just answering your question.”

Sanji took a deep breath, releasing it in one long sigh. “That was sarcasm. I was saying one thing but meaning the other,” he explained calmly.

Zoro wanted to ask why anyone would ask a question that way, but Sanji had already moved on, pulling a fresh shirt on over his head before turning to face Zoro again.

“So, you really think my body looks good?” he asked, a cocksure grin splitting his face.

Zoro sputtered. It was undeniable that the blond had a nice body, of course, especially in comparison to some of the others Zoro had seen in his time. But from the look Sanji was giving him, the blond was taking it in a weird way. Zoro wasn’t sure he wanted to know what way that was.

“Relax,” Sanji laughed. “It was a joke. What were you saying before?”

Zoro didn’t like that a joke was made at his expense, and he was more in favor of continuing the argument than changing the subject, but this just so happened to be more important.

“I should go back,” Zoro repeated again. “To my home.”

Sanji lit a cigarette before responding. “I thought you were hiding here. Is it okay to go back already?”

“I have to,” Zoro said.

Sanji looked slightly disappointed by this proclamation. Zoro had no idea why, just the night before Sanji had been irritated with the news that Zoro would be staying. Now he was the opposite, and Zoro was beginning to wonder if all humans were this stupidly indecisive.

“There are things I need. I can’t stay there long, it’ll be risky enough going back anyway, but it will be better to get them sooner or later,” Zoro explained.

“You’ll be back then?” Sanji asked, his face brightening with the news. Of course, the cheerful look didn’t last long, it was quickly replaced by the smirk that Zoro was steadily learning to hate. “Do you need to pack your sleepover bag?”

“Shut up,” Zoro growled.

With that he was gone, leaving the chuckling blond behind him.

* * *

 

Sanji loved his job, most of the time. He got to spend a majority of his day in the water, something he counted at a major perk. His students were varied, from young adults to senior citizens, but they were always an enjoyable lot. He had fun in his job, there was never a dull moment.

And then, of course, there were the beautiful young women…

Swimming in the pool meant tight fitting clothing, and some of his students pulled off that look quite well if he did say so. This particular young lady, Flare, wore her small wet suit well. Sanji showered her in praise the moment she arrived. She regretted not getting to wear her usual bikini, but as they would be practicing swimming in full gear today, it was important she wear something… more.

“Don’t you think it looks bad?” She asked, pulling at the material around her legs. “I feel a little silly.”

Sanji was quick to assure her she looked great, and she accepted his compliments with a charming smile. Flare was one of his favorite students, and he would regret not getting to see her after she’d completed her course… If he couldn’t get her number before then anyway.

“So I have to put all that gear on?” She pointed to a pile Sanji had set off to the side of the pool. “It looks complicated.”

“I’d be more than happy to assist you, my dear,” he cried eagerly, pulling himself out from the pool.

It took some time for Sanji to properly explain how each piece went on and what its purpose was. Flare was a good student, listening attentively and asking questions when she was confused about something. Sanji swooned, she was so perfect really…

Once she was fully geared up, she swayed a little on her feet. “This is heavy!” She exclaimed in surprise.

“You won’t even feel it in the water,” he promised before hopping into the pool ahead of her. The water was deep at this end of the pool, deep enough to simulate a dive without having to take a boat out, perfect for practice.

What happened next was a streak of the worst back luck Sanji could ever remember encountering.

Flare was still facing away from the pool, checking to make sure her straps were in place and tightened correctly. Sanji thought it was adorable, she seemed so nervous about trying out her first dive.

“We’re going to do the giant stride entry method, do you remember that one?” Sanji asked her from the water.

Flare turned to answer, her perfect lips parted with response. But when she turned, the weight of her equipment threw her balance. Sanji watched for a few horrified seconds as she fought to right herself despite the added weight. When she placed her foot down, however, it slid over the water Sanji had dripped onto the pool’s concrete earlier. He watched, terrified for her as she slipped, her arms pin wheeling for balance that she never found as she tipped over the side of the pool.

The last thing Sanji thought as he watched her fall was that at least she had cleared the edge of the pool. She would be safe.

Then her oxygen tank connected with his head, and everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Zoro pushed through the front door of his home. It was much larger than Sanji’s small apartment by comparison, but Zoro couldn’t help but feel he might have preferred the clean white walls and warm atmosphere the blond had made for himself there. Zoro’s home lacked any of that; he’d kept it solely functional. It was a place to rest when he wasn’t working, and nothing more.

Of course, Zoro was sure the blond probably got more visitors than he did. Zoro lived in a middle realm, a kind of other dimension that laid between Earth and the Heavens where God and many of the others lived. Death didn’t really fit in among them, and his job needed him to remain somewhat close to hell. Where he lived now, some might call it purgatory, was central between all three places he needed to visit regularly, and therefore it was the most convenient location for Death to stay.

As convenient as the location was for him, however, very few of the others had any reason to come by this way, and most of his time here was spent in quiet and alone. Not that he was bothered by the solitude, frankly, he preferred it, but without anyone to entertain there was no reason to spruce up his living quarters. He’d kept things pretty much the same as they had been since he took up his role of Death and came here to stay.

The previous incarnation of Death had a poor taste in home building. The mansion Zoro currently lived in was large, impressive, and ridiculous. It was less of a mansion, really, and more of a castle, complete with turrets and battlements. It had large arching windows in dingy stained glass and spires that reached towards the sky. It was built out of dark stone, turned darker with age until the fortress had come to resemble the dreary, almost colorless land of this dimension.

The inside wasn’t any better, wood stained so dark it was nearly black added accents to the already dark stone walls, giving the inside a closed feeling and a depressing atmosphere. The furniture was exactly as it had been since Zoro had come to live here; sparse, but each piece was ornate and reflected the almost gothic fashion of the mansion perfectly, and not one of them was comfortable in anyway.

The design and fashion of the place left much to be desired, but it served its purpose as a place for Zoro to rest, and that was all he needed it for. Still, being inside the dark stone halls and moving about the shadowed living space, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy for Sanji’s clean white walls and comfortable, simple furnishings. Maybe he should think about redecorating this place or rebuilding it all together. He’d been given the option when he first came to be here, but declined at the time to avoid inconvenience. Maybe he should reconsider…

It didn’t matter for now, though. He wasn’t here to linger for long anyway. He just needed to pick something up, and he’d be on his way. Or, that had been the plan until someone knocked one of the decorative suits of armor off of its pedestal and tipped Zoro off to their presence. 

Death can move frighteningly fast when needed, and Zoro was on his home invader before they even had the chance to recover. He should have guessed who it was; there weren’t many who would come into Death’s home and even fewer that were so clumsy.

“Zoro!” The uninvited guest exclaimed. He was a young man with an unusually long nose, curly, dark hair, and skin much darker than Zoro’s own. Of course that made sense, he spent a lot of time outside, delivering messages.

“Usopp,” Zoro offered him a hand.

Usopp stared at it for a moment. “New gloves?” He asked in amusement before accepting Zoro’s help.

Zoro might have tugged the guy to his feet a little harder than necessary, but he’d succeeded in wiping that smug look off the other’s face at least.

“What are you doing here?” Zoro asked, looking despairingly down at the mess of armor the long-nose had created. He didn’t have time to sort it out; he didn’t want to be caught here by anyone else. It was bad enough Usopp had found him, although he should have known someone would have caught him here. He was lucky, actually, it could have been someone much more impressive.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Usopp scowled at him. “And for the record, I’m not here on business, I’m here as your friend.”

‘Friend’ was a stretch, but Usopp was a pretty good guy. Zoro didn’t go out of his way to socialize with anyone, and he wasn’t usually fond of the kind of people who would purposely try to worm their way into a conversation with him, but Usopp seemed like a pretty genuine guy… if you disregarded half of what he said. He had a tendency to exaggerate truths or even outright lie, but his lies were so obvious you’d have to be an idiot to believe them.

How someone like Usopp got the position of a messenger, though, Zoro had no idea. Usopp’s job was to relay information between the others. He came to see Zoro on business occasionally when there was something Zoro really needed to know, but usually Zoro’s work was pretty efficient and independent from the other’s, so there really wasn’t much for him to be informed about.

Zoro had to wonder how reliable the messages from a guy so prone to storytelling really were, but Usopp was picked for his job the same way Zoro was picked for his, and there were powers there that even he couldn’t argue with. Zoro just had to go on trust and a healthy dash of skepticism.

“Everyone’s been looking for you, Zoro, and they seem pretty upset,” Usopp explained. “I thought if I waited around here, I might be able to warn you.”

“Thanks, Usopp,” Zoro said. Although, he’d known from the moment he’d made his big decision that things would be this way. “Has the boss said anything?”

Now Usopp’s face contorted into a concerned expression. “Actually, he’s kind of… missing.”

“Missing?” Zoro’s frown deepened. “What the hell does that mean?”

“The same as you,” Usopp shrugged. “He’s fine. Apparently, he told Vivi he was going away for a little while, but everyone’s nervous now that God and Death have both stepped off the plate.”

“I’m still doing my job,” Zoro grumbled. “I’m just not doing it from home is all.”

“Sure,” Usopp nodded. “If that was all, it might not be a big deal, but there’s still the issue of the guy you refused to kill.”

Zoro didn’t respond. He folded his arms across his chest and made sure it was clear that he was done speaking. Usopp looked at him expectantly for a while before breaking eye contact under Death’s intense gaze.

“Fine,” Usopp finally said. “But you’re back now, so I suppose the others can relax.”

“I’m not back,” Zoro corrected him, using this as an opportunity to move back down the hallway. Usopp followed, sputtering panic behind him, but at least Zoro could get what he needed while the messenger lost his mind.

“What?” Usopp asked. “You’re not back? But you’re here!”

“To pick up one thing,” Zoro said, ducking through a doorway. This mansion was ridiculously massive, and after all the time he’d been here, he honestly could not remember where he’d put everything. This door opened into another spare bedroom, but Zoro was fairly sure he hadn’t left it in one of those, so he moved on.

“You don’t mean…?” Usopp’s voice rose in pitch as the answer dawned on him. “How long do you plan on staying there?”

“A while,” was all Zoro said to him in reply.

“Is this about that guy? You still won’t kill him?” The messenger asked.

Zoro didn’t respond, only continued his search, but he supposed his lack of response was an obvious answer. Even if it was, Usopp still lapsed into silence again, a troubled look on his face. Zoro wasn’t going to address it though; his mind was made up, and nothing going on in heaven or on earth was going to stop him from following through with his plans. The others would be okay, and he would still get his work done on schedule, so there was no reason for him to give up now.

Zoro wasn’t sure how many doors he tried before he finally found what he was looking for, but when he did, Usopp finally snapped out of his troubled stupor.

“You’re really going to try to save this guy?” He asked as Zoro took what he needed from the large cabinet.

“Yes,” Zoro said. He wasn’t going to explain his actions, because he still hadn’t entirely figured them out himself. Even if he had, this was his decision and not anyone else’s business.

Usopp sighed heavily before speaking again. “Then I’ll give you a heads up,” Usopp tapped the side of his head so that Zoro knew what he meant. Usopp had kind of a telepathic radio that could tune into the other incarnations if they were broadcasting “official business”. It helped him relay messages more quickly if there was some urgent business that needed taken care of. “They’ve been talking, and I don’t think that guy is going to survive the day.”

Zoro swore. He readied himself more quickly and strode quickly back to the front door. He should have known leaving Sanji was a bad idea, but he’d thought if he moved soon then the others wouldn’t have made their move yet. So much for that, now he’d endangered Sanji recklessly.

“Hey! Zoro, wait!” Usopp followed after him, half running as Zoro hurried to leave. “What should I tell the others?”

“You didn’t see me here,” Zoro snapped. “Trust me, you’ll only get yourself in trouble if you tell them the truth.”

Usopp was quiet after that, and Zoro took that to mean agreement. Even if it wasn’t, he didn’t have time to spare now, he’d already been gone for far too long. Before he took that last step, however, he stopped to face Usopp again.

“Just… tell Vivi or something. At least someone will know. It’s fine, I’m still doing my job.”

“You’re breaking the rules, Zoro,” Usopp reminded him.

Zoro only shrugged before taking the last step, the one that took him from one dimension to another, and would deposit him on Earth, hopefully in time to save the blond.

* * *

 

Zoro emerged a few inches above the clear blue water of the pool Sanji worked in. He hovered there for barely a second before the gravity of Earth bore down on him and sent him into the blue depths with a splash. He didn’t have time to be irritated with the fact that his clothing was now wet; if he materialized here, then there must have been a reason.

He emerged from the water and tried to make sense of his surroundings. Several onlookers were peering over the edge of the pool and a man with electric blue hair did his best to force his way through them, demanding answers the panicked crowd was too stunned to give. A few feet away from him a girl with long brown hair, fully suited in the equipment Zoro had seen Sanji wear before, treaded the water. Her hands were over her mouth, stifling gasping sobs as she stared down into the water below.

Zoro followed her gaze, spotting the shape of blond and blue floating limply near the bottom of the pool. Sanji wasn’t moving, and Zoro didn’t waste a second in diving into the water after him. He could only hope he was fast enough to reach him.

He was careful to make sure his sleeves were pulled down his arms and that his gloves had made the journey with him before he grabbed up the blond and shot off back to the surface. It would be a waste of time to accidentally kill the blond while trying to save him. 

He broke the surface in a matter of seconds and handled Sanij’s unconscious form up to a pair of waiting arms. Zoro got him out of the pool, but resuscitation wasn’t something he was capable of. He could only hope the man with the blue hair – the one that had taken Sanji from him the moment they emerged – was. He pulled himself out of the water, his clothing sloshing water across the concrete below. A few of the onlookers offered him some assistance in the form of helping hands or dry towels, but he ignored them, dodging their bodies and forcing his way to where Sanji lay.

“Sanji! Come on bro!” The blue haired man muttered encouragingly, checking the blond over. The back of his opened shirt read “lifeguard”, and he seemed to know what he was doing. Every one of his movements were precise and purposeful, even when he leaned over and exhaled a mouthful of air into the blond.

After a couple of tense minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours, Sanji coughed, spewing a mouthful of water onto the concrete beside him. Franky let out a cry of relief and tipped the blond’s head to the side, allowing Sanji to cough up more of the fluid.

Sanji’s eyes rolled as he regained his consciousness; disoriented and confused, he blinked twice, his eyes stopping on Zoro.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, weakly bringing one of his hands to his head. “I feel like absolute shit.”

Franky snorted. “Well it’s good to see your personality isn’t damaged. Still as gentlemanly as ever,” the blue haired man turned towards a group of the onlookers that were wearing the building’s logo on their shirts. “Has anyone called the paramedics?”

“Paramedics?” Sanji frowned. “No! Don’t call the paramedics!” He managed to call to one of the girls in the group that had moved to fulfill Franky’s request. “I don’t need the paramedics, I – Flare!” He shouted the last word, bolting upright in a flash and attempting to locate the person in question.

Sitting up so quickly, however, proved to be a very bad idea, and Sanji almost immediately rocked backwards, just barely managing to catch himself on one weakened arm. Franky scolded him and helped him lay back, promising him punishment if he tried that again. Sanji ignored him, however, and continued to speak over Franky’s reprimands, demanding to know if Flare was okay.

“Sanji?” The young girl Zoro had seen in the pool approached. She’d shed the complicated equipment, but her eyes were swollen and red, and tears threatened to fall from them again. She hid her quivering lips behind small hands and stared wide eyed down at the blond. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered.

Sanji’s expression softened instantly, and his body relaxed entirely. “Don’t worry about it, my dear, it was only an accident,” he assured her in an eloquent, and frankly cheesy, manner. “I’m fine, so there was no harm done.”

“You’re only fine because that guy jumped in to save you,” Franky thumbed back at Zoro, and Death suddenly found himself the center of unwanted attention.

“Zoro?” Sanji asked, looking mildly surprised. “You’re back,” the blond paused, confusion creasing his face. “Franky can see you?”

Franky made a disapproving grunt followed by comment on how the ambulance had better hurry up. Zoro tried to assure Sanji with a look that he would explain later, but the blond continued to look confused. That was, at least, until the girl named Flare started sobbing again, and Sanji instantly turned his focus to reassuring her that everything was fine.

Things were chaos for a while. Once he was sure Sanji wouldn’t drop dead on him, Franky began attempting to shoo the on looking crowd away, making room for the paramedics to come and giving Sanji time to recover without an audience. Some, like Flare, went reluctantly while others tried to hover back and continue watching the show.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Zoro was forced to sit back and watch as Sanji was put through a few tests to check his vision and reflexes and make sure that no major damage had been done. Franky offered him a towel, and this time Zoro accepted. The blue haired man was energetic and loud, but he’d just helped to save Sanji, so Zoro couldn’t see a reason to turn down the offer.

After the bustle of activity, the paramedics determined Sanji would live, and that there were no damaging effects from being hit over the head and nearly drowning. After he’d come to, Sanji remembered the event up until the moment he lost consciousness, and he proved to be in perfect condition aside from a large bump to the side of his forehead. When it was apparent Sanji would live, most of the still lingering crowd lost interest and carried about their business as usual.

“Leeches,” Franky snorted from beside Zoro. “They’ll latch on to anything they think might be entertaining, even if it’s at someone’s expense.”

Zoro couldn’t help but agree with that assessment of human beings, but he didn’t say so out loud. Mostly because he didn’t want to engage Franky in conversation. It was one thing to follow Sanji around; Sanji was his intended victim, and even if Zoro couldn’t kill him, there was something about the blond that drew Zoro to him. For a human, he was interesting, enough so to intrigue Zoro. One fascinating human was enough, however, and Zoro didn’t want to get to know another.

“Oi,” the blond’s gravelly voice roused him from his musings.

“Sanji-bro!” Franky greeted, standing and slapping Sanji on the back, a bit too hard for someone who had just survived a near death experience. “Feeling better?”

Sanji’s knees buckled slightly, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance. “I’d feel fine if you wouldn’t hit me,” he ground out, removing Franky’s hand from his shoulder.

Franky didn’t rise to Sanji’s bad attitude, however, instead he laughed cheerfully. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, sounding less than sincere. “I’m just glad to see you moving around.”

Sanji’s attitude died a little at that, and he sighed. “Yeah, thanks, Franky,” he said, sounding genuine. “Thanks to you.”

“No way,” Franky crossed his arms into an ‘X’ in front of him. “If you want to thank anyone, thank the green-bro, he’s the one who pulled you out of the pool so fast.”

Sanji’s face split into a mocking grin at the nickname “green-bro”, and he turned his blue eyes on Zoro. Zoro returned the look with an even deeper scowl but refused to say anything to encourage Sanji’s mockery further.

Sanji seemed satisfied enough for the moment. He plucked lightly at one of Zoro’s sleeves, and Zoro instinctively jerked at the contact. Sanji wasn’t near his skin, but it was Zoro’s kneejerk reaction to avoid touching anyone or allowing anyone to touch him.

If Sanji noticed his reaction, he didn’t comment, instead he pulled away again and said, “Still damp. Well, come on, _Green-bro_ ,” he teased. “Let’s get you dried off. Or perhaps your moss hair likes all that water?”

Franky laughed out loud, and Zoro glared sharply at Sanji. Sanji laughed himself, a full, refreshing sound, before walking away; presumably leading Zoro to a place he could dry off properly at. Zoro’s glare followed after him, and, with a snarl of frustration at both himself for obeying a human and at Sanji for being so irritating, Zoro stood and followed behind him.

* * *

The locker room Sanji led Zoro to was marked for staff use only and was empty and silent. The inside was a long row of lockers that ran the walls and divided the room in half, leaving an open space back to where Zoro could see showerheads along the wall. Benches were rooted to the ground in front of the lockers, each painted in a swirling pattern made of various shades of blue. The walls were covered in small, square tiles, every color imaginable and arranged in a swirling, ornate pattern. It was a lot of color in such a small space, and it felt crowded to Zoro, but the colors and patterns were undeniably appealing, reminding Zoro of a swirling ocean’s tide.

“I think we have some spare sweats in here,” Sanji said to him, disappearing into a small office area. “They’re grey, but you’ll have to make do until we get your clothes dried.”

Sanji emerged with a couple sets of clothes and handed one to Zoro. The material was kind of prickly and uncomfortable, and the color was an awful light gray. Zoro sneered at the fabric and looked at Sanji as if he might be insane. The blond didn’t really expect him to wear this, did he?

“Don’t give me that look,” Sanji chuckled. “It’s just until I can dry your clothes, so man up and put them on.”

Zoro visibly winced but complied; setting the set of clothes Sanji had just handed him onto the bench, he bent and began to pull his boots off. Satisfied, Sanji turned and pulled out his own change of clothes from his locker. At least he had something acceptable to change into.

“Why is it Franky could suddenly see you?” Sanji asked, unzipping the wetsuit he was wearing. “The guy in the shop this morning couldn’t,” Sanji froze in his movements and turned with wide eyes to Zoro. “That doesn’t mean he’s going to die or something, does it?”

“Your friend will be fine,” Zoro assured him. “He still has plenty of years left.”

“But he could see you,” Sanji stated.

“I told you I was going back for something,” Zoro began to explain. “It’s a body, of sorts. It allows me to move about the human world in disguise.”

“It looks just like you,” Sanji remarked.

“Of course,” Zoro frowned. “How would you feel being stuck in a body that didn’t resemble who you are? I’ll tell you, it’s very uncomfortable.”

Sanji paused, looking a little stunned by that comment, but shook it off. “Why did you need a body, though? Is it hard to stay here without one?”

“Not at all,” Zoro shrugged. “Honestly this thing is confining, and I’d prefer to go without it, but what would your friends have thought if your body had suddenly flown from the pool by itself?”

“Ah,” Sanji said. “I guess you have a point.”

“Of course I do,” Zoro smirked.

Sanji shot him a glare but continued working at the zipper of his wetsuit. When it was fully drawn down, he peeled the tight fabric away from his skin, and Zoro spun away quickly, leaving the man to change without an audience.

Sanji however, seemed to have no such concerns.

“Whoa,” he breathed the moment Zoro pulled his shirt off.

Zoro paused in his undressing, glancing back at the blond curiously. Sanji’s eyes were trained on him, two blue orbs widened in horror. Sanji didn’t meet his eyes, however, instead he stared at the skin of Zoro’s back.

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. Not that he didn’t already know what he would see there. It was just a reflexive action. He knew well that the pale white skin was marred with a jagged, slightly pink scar that ran from shoulder to hip in a disjointed diagonal. It was softer, shinier looking than his skin, puckered and bunched in places. It was a grotesque reminder of his previous life, one that would never fade even if a millennia would pass.

“What the hell happened?” Sanji asked, taking a step forward, his eyes still trained on the scar.

“Uh,” Zoro frowned, wondering how to answer that.It was a personal story, one he rarely shared with anyone. Most of the other incarnations already knew it, having had a hand in it themselves, and those that didn’t had never asked. Every incarnation had a past; a human life that had led them to where they were now. But those pasts could be very dark, sad, or tragic, and for some it was like pouring salt on an open wound to have to remember them.

But why not tell Sanji? Zoro’s human life had been short, and he’d been a foolhardy idiot, but it was the past. He felt no shame or grief from such a distant life, and he’d learned the error of his ways since then. He didn’t hold his past in his memories as a tragic history but rather as a stepping stone that led him to where he now stood.

Sanji had stepped closer again, and Zoro turned to face him, revealing the rest of his past injury. Sanji drew in a sharp breath, releasing it in a hiss as if he could feel the pain from the wound. Of course he couldn’t. The pain had been incredible for the short time he could feel anything. It was an all-consuming feeling, maddening and disorienting, to the point where Zoro almost wished for death just to escape it.

The scar from his back continued along his front, connecting at the shoulder and running down and across his chest. It didn’t quite connect at the hip, but stopped, leaving a scant bit of skin unharmed between the two lines. Zoro looked down at it, considering it for a moment, trying to see it as Sanji would.

Sanji stopped in front of him, his eyes no longer on the scar, but on Zoro’s face, wordlessly demanding an answer to his question.

“This…” Zoro touched the scar absent mindedly. “This is the wound that killed me.”

Sanji’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Zoro could see the questions dancing in his eyes, but the blond remained quiet, giving Zoro the chance to explain for himself.

Zoro drew in a breath. It had to have been at least two hundred years since he told this story to anyone. The memory had never faded though. Most likely, it never would.

“When I was young, and alive, I was arrogant. I got the idea in my head that I was invincible and undefeatable,” Zoro chuckled darkly. “I wasn’t.”

There was silence for a moment while Sanji waited for Zoro to continue and Zoro thought about how to explain his past in words. Relating a story like this to someone that have never experienced those times was more difficult than he had anticipated.

“I was a swordsman; I’m not really sure if it was something I did for work, or if it was just something I enjoyed… maybe both. I would travel a lot and take up jobs as a bodyguard or an assassin, anything to get me by. I liked new challenges. I wanted to be the greatest swordsman in the world. I promised a friend,” Zoro paused. He wasn’t sure he wanted to retell that much. It was a promise he’d failed to keep, and he’d spend the rest of his existence remembering that.

“Wherever I went, I would challenge the best swordsman in the area. I was always victorious, and over time I got too confident in my abilities. When I challenged a true master, I did it recklessly and arrogantly. He tried to warn me off, he knew at a glance that I was no match for him, but I was foolish and refused to listen.”

He placed a hand absentmindedly against the scar on his chest. “He ended it pretty quickly. Sliced me nearly in two. There was none of the fancy medical equipment that you have now, but even if there was, I’m not sure I could have been saved, not with a wound like this. I died pretty quickly, I guess.”

“I didn’t really want to die, but it was a large part of who I was. I accepted that every day might be my last, and I took lives every step of the way. When he came for me, he came like an old friend…”

Zoro trailed off. There was too much to explain after that. Those memories were swirled in confusion and hazy. He could remember being asked if he truly wanted to die, remembered the offer he’d been made, the conversation he’d had with the previous Death, but those were moments of clarity amongst a dark storm of haze.

Sanji moved and pulled Zoro from his thoughts. One slender hand rose from the blond’s side. He’d moved closer at some point, though Zoro had no idea when, so that now they were only a short distance apart. Sanji’s hand reached forward, and Zoro tensed, ready to jerk away.

“Relax,” Sanji assured him. “I’m not going to touch.”

Zoro didn’t dare relax as Sanji’s fingers traced along Zoro’s scar, not touching, but close enough that Zoro could feel the warmth of Sanji’s skin radiating. If Zoro so much as inhaled, they might accidentally touch, so he was powerless to do anything more than stand still and wait.

Sanji traced the scar from Zoro’s shoulder down across his chest. Zoro shuddered a little against the warmth that tingled against his cool flesh, and Sanji flashed him a cocky grin that made Zoro want to hit him. Sanji’s fingers never stopped their movement though, and Sanji’s attention quickly returned to them. They stopped when they reached the end of the scar at Zoro’s hip. He didn’t remove them though, and Zoro stood there, barely breathing, watching Sanji carefully and waiting for the blond to pull away… or maybe continue, Zoro wasn’t sure what he wanted more.

“This body you’re in resembles you,” the blond frowned, his eyes still intently focused on where his fingers were. “Do you have these scars too?”

“Of course. This body was made to look just like me,” Zoro answered.

“It strange that Death has scars,” Sanji remarked, finally letting his hand drop and freeing Zoro from his spell. He looked up, meeting Zoro’s eyes before continuing. “Scars are marks on your body; I didn’t think they would affect your essence.”

Zoro stepped back, just a small step but enough to give him more room to breathe and more space between him and Sanji. Sanji made no effort to come closer; to Zoro’s relief, he continued to stand in that same spot and watch Zoro with those eyes that almost unnerved the spirit of Death.

“Some scars are deep enough to mark even your soul,” Zoro said to him.

A pained look crossed Sanji’s face when Zoro said that. Though the blond was still looking at him, the blue eyes were distant, focused on something far away in memory and invisible to anyone else. 

“I guess I can see that,” he finally said.

“Now hurry up and give me your clothes so we can get out of here,” He snatched Zoro’s top from him and shoved it into the large cubic drier. He turned expectantly and looked down at Zoro’s pants. “Come on, moss head, strip.”

 


End file.
